


Milking McCree

by Shes-claws-deep (CyrilOdahviing)



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Begging, Cock milking, Crying, F/M, Female Dominance, Femdom, Male Lactation, Milking, No nut november, Sobbing, Sub!McCree - Freeform, dom!reader, minotaur!mccree, tease and denial, tit milking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-10-15 12:04:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17528381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CyrilOdahviing/pseuds/Shes-claws-deep
Summary: As one of your breeding bulls, McCree has to go through No Nut November in order to produce optimum yield in December's breeding season. He's at the end of his rope, begging and pleading with you not to edge him today. As always, McCree should be careful what he asks for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a minotaur!McCree au :3

“Rise and shine, baby!”

McCree groans deep in his chest as he rouses from his slumber, his slumped head rising from where he left it in sleep. Blearily, he blinks and focuses his tired eyes on your silhouetted form; he can’t see much with the bright light streaming into his stall from behind you.

“Boss,” he grunts, shaking the sleep out of his eyes. In doing so, he jingles the heavy cowbell around his neck, the clanking sound lulling him back into a relaxed state. His muscles flex in his stocks, the metal and soft fleece hugging him gently as he moves. He can only shift a little to adjust his sleep soft body, but it’s enough to rouse him to full wakefulness as you approach. “Is it-?”

You shake your head and do your daily checks: cuffs, chains, collar, ass plug, nipple clamps, cock ring, and of course, his nose ring. “Not yet, stud. Just two more days; you can hold out for that long, can’t you?” His desperate whine amuses you, enough that you laugh at the pathetic look of frustration on his handsome, furry face. “Come on, you’ve gone 28 days without cumming. You can take 2 more, can’t you?”

“Not if you edge me again today, I’m not,” he snarls with his nostrils flared, jerking this way and that in his stocks until his stall is filled with a cacophony of chains jangling and wood creaking. “I ain’t gonna take it no more. I ain’t!” He stomps his sharp hooves and throws himself against the stocks holding his wrists and neck still. “I wanna cum, boss. I ain’t gonna take no edging no more!”

Smack!

McCree roars and brays into the cool morning air, thrashing his head this way and that to find the source of the pain biting into his ass.

Smack smack smack!

Where is it?! What the hell is that?

“Calm yourself, McCree,” you drawl and let your whip fly three more times, scoring dark marks into his well-beaten ass and thighs. “Flying into a rage will do you no good.” Another three more whippings fall onto his meaty ass.

After those three, McCree is sobbing more than he is raging, his whipped ass glowing bright red and starting to bruise a little where you struck him. “Please…please…” he whimpers, his head starting to hang down again. “I can’t-”

Sympathy wells up in you and you hang the whip back up, walking back around his bent over form to come to his horned head. You attach a leash to his nose ring and pull his head up that way, up and up and up until he’s looking up at you in the eyes. “You can do this, my breeding bull. Just two more days and you’ll be able to cum as much as you want, okay?”

But he’s shaking still, his thighs trembling and his belly twitching in deep-seated need. “Please don’t edge me today boss, please! I really-” McCree takes a moment to drool out the saliva building up in his mouth. “I can’t take it anymore. I’m gonna die if you edge me again, please don’t!” 28 days of constant edging from 8am to 11pm is taking its toll on him, evidently.

Unfortunately, you have to do what is necessary in order to obtain a good yield come December. There are a lot of buyers who want his milk, and you’d be a bad rancher not to deliver. “You know I have to, baby.” You shake your head, holding him tight when he starts to rear back again. “Those balls of yours have to be nice and full and the only way to ensure that is to make sure you don’t cum at all for an entire month. You’ve gone through this for ages, baby, you can do it again.”

Tears stream down his face, soaking his beard and his fur and dripping onto your hand as you ease him back into a more comfortable position in the stall. Beneath him, his cock jumps and drools into the container strapped around his waist and legs. Even his precious pre-cum can’t be wasted.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m milking your tits today,” you coo into his twitching ear, the tag tapping gently against your lips as you kiss him there.

No, no, in fact, it doesn’t make him feel any better. If you touch his tits, he’s going to-! A loud moo rips from his mouth as you start cleaning his teats gently. His cock twitches and drools even more, growing and growing and feeling so hard that he thought it might snap in half if you touched it. He curses his genes for giving him such sensitive tits, but there’s nothing he can do about it but twist his torso this way and that as you massage his pecs to get his milk flowing.

“Now, you’re a little behind on milk production, but that’s okay, we still have a couple of other milkers who can pick up the slack,” you mutter quietly while you massage and pinch at his swollen nipples, coaxing beads of milk to the surface until a splash of it drips onto your work pants. “Excellent. Now for the machine…” Ignoring McCree’s defeated crying, you attach the teat cups and press a couple of buttons on the machine, letting go only when you feel the suction take hold.

The moment the machine starts to suck at his tits, McCree starts to wail and moo his head off. He trembles and arches his back, his hands twisting in the wooden stocks by his head as though he wanted to grope something. His knees shake and eventually buckle, sending his waist and hips back down onto the padded metal bars that keep him in a vulnerable position; ass up, head down.

Gravity helps to milk his tits as much as the machine does, pulling at least a litre out of him while you do your other morning checks. You hose him off and wipe him down, clearing out the mess in his stall while you wait for the machine to collect his milk. By the time his milk hits the mark on its bottle, McCree is almost wrung out and insane with lust, his eyes blown wide and his hair stuck to his face when you finally round around to his front to check on him.

Removing the teat cups go quick, his formerly puffy nipples even bigger and softer now after it’s been sucked on for at least half an hour. When you flick them and pinch to see a little bit more cream dribble out, McCree only moans softly and drops his head next to yours, his blunt horns gently pressing against the top of your head.

“Aww, baby,” you coo up at him, but not before you sneak a little suck of his milk. That makes him jump back upright with a loud scream of pleasure filled pain, his chest trembling when you nibble and suck at his tender nipple. Milk, soft and sweet and creamy, bursts on your tongue and you have to rip yourself away before you milk him beyond his capacity. Fuck, his milk tastes so damn good. Maybe that’s why your customers pay an arm and a leg for his cream.

Well, enough of his milking, you guess, setting the milk inside a refrigerated unit while you clear up the milking machine. While you do so, McCree whines at you pitifully, shooting you doe-like eyes when you turn around to look at him. “Boss…”

“Hmm?”

“C-can I-?” His lip trembles. “Can I have a treat, please?”

Oooh, how polite. “You haven’t been a good boy at all, stud. How do you deserve a treat?”

He licks his lips and raises his head, the ring in his nose shifting as his tongue touches it. “I’ll be a good boy for the rest of today, boss. And tomorrow. And the day after. I’ll take all my edges like a good little cow. Please, boss, can I have a treat?” He wriggles his ass and arches his back, showing you his huge cock that’s still weeping precum like his eyes are leaking tears. His cock is as beautiful as always, huge, so thick that you can’t get your fingers around it and long enough that he could spear you on it if he wanted to. If you wanted to.

You eye it and grin evilly. But what if he had a smaller cock.

“Wait one second.” You dart out the stall and to your tack room, leaving McCree to stare after you confusedly. It takes a couple of moments before you’re back, screeching to a halt in front of him with a strap on cock in hand, harness and all. “You can’t fuck me, because I know you and you’re going to blow your load the moment you stick your cock inside me. But you can fuck me with this cock.” You wave the dildo in front of him, shaped just like his cock but smaller, human-sized and all too easy for you to take.

McCree wails and shakes his head; he wants to fuck you. Him. HE wants to fuck you, not some fake cock that can barely stretch your walls. “Please, Boss, you know my cock is better!” He pleads and begs and bargains with you even as you strap the harness on, tucking his cock out of the way with the help of the pre-cum collection unit. His balls slap against your hand as you struggle to get him prepped, the huge testicles searing hot and so big that you don’t think he can close his legs - the sign of a virile breeding male. Too bad he’s not allowed to breed until you say so.

“Just be glad I’m allowing this much, McCree,” you sigh out, dropping your pants and crawling into the breeding frame installed beneath him. It’s usually for clients who want a, hmm, traditional insemination method, but you use it from time to time. To ensure quality control, of course. In this instance, you slide the fake cock inside you with a relieved groan, rocking back onto it and feeling his huge balls bang against your thighs as you do so.

McCree rages and roars above you, his chest tapping against your back as he bucks into you with all the desperation of a cooped up male. He fucks you hard, as hard as the stocks will allow, his hips slamming against the frame as much as it smacks into your ass as he rams you with all his weight. Luckily the dildo isn’t as long as he is, or you would be rolling under him with a perforated womb. As it is, the cock hits you in just the right spot and you moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head as he does all the work.

He huffs and brays and moos his heart out, gripping at the chains and the stocks to get better traction to fuck you harder, fuck you faster until the wet squelching of the dildo inside you is driving him as mad as the milking machine did. He can feel your slick gushing onto his balls and his hips; he can feel you tightening around the dildo as he drives it hard. His hooves scramble for purchase, stomping and slamming against the hay and wood floor until it sounds like he’s in the middle of a fight.

“I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cuuuuum~!” He yells out at the top of his voice, his cowbell clanking and clanking as he quickens his pace, feeling the pleasure burning in the depths of his gut with nowhere to go. It feels like you’ve edged him for a solid hour but he couldn’t have been fucking you for more than ten minutes. He’s going to go mad. He’s going to go mad with denied pleasure and it’s going to be all your fault.

You merely laugh and rock yourself back on the dildo, flicking your clit and licking at his puffy tits until you cum with a cry, pushing yourself as far back as you can go so you can feel the cock jamming so deep into you that it hurts. And yet, even with your pussy clamping down on the cock hard, McCree still fucks you hard and fast. Unyielding, unflinching, never-ending.

He’s chanting ‘please’ over and over again, his voice strained and hoarse and ruined as he tries his hardest to cum. Alas, it’s not to be.

With a satisfied sigh that stutters from his still frantic bucking, you rip yourself off the fake cock and roll out from under him quickly. Good thing too, because he launches himself as far forward as he can as though to sink his cock deep into you. “Ooof, that was a good fuck, stud. Glad to know you still have it in you.”

“Pleasepleaseplease-” McCree doesn’t hear you through his mumbles and the ringing in his ears and the pounding of his great heart. “Let me cum please, oh fucking please please, boss!”

You shake your head again and stumble into your pants, tidying yourself up and removing the harness to clean it and the cock. “Two more days, baby. You can handle it. Now, take a breather and I’ll be back after I clean Hanzo’s stall, okay?”

McCree barely picks up his head to watch you leave, leash still hanging from his nose ring and dragging against the floor.


	2. December 1st

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now here due to popular demand. The events of December 1st :3

On the morning of December 1st, you walk up to an absolutely insane barnhouse. A cacophony of baying and braying and yowling hits you like a truck in the face when you open the doors. Ah, yes, the end of the suffering of many a bull. No doubt they’re all just waiting for you to get to work. Patience, dear bulls. Patience.

“Boss!” One bull in particular moos at you with a dazed, mindless look on his handsome face. “Boss, please!”

“What’s the matter, my darling?” You saunter up to him and tilt his head up, revealing a tear-stained face and matted fur, his thick facial hair almost obscuring his pillowy lips from your view. “Come, Jesse, speak.”

Jesse McCree, one of your best breeding bulls, whimpers and nuzzles into your hand. “Pl-please, let me cum, boss. Mistress. Mistress, mercy, please?” His body, positioned upright on his feet, ripples as he shifts in place. “Mistress.”

Cooing gently at him, you kiss his lips and smooth the hair away from his eyes, reaching up for a lever even as you soothe him. “It’ll be over in a few minutes, darling. It’s December 1st today. Almost there.” The mechanisms in the ceiling above his pen grind and clank into action, heaving as they manipulate his body into the optimal position for seed milking.

From his original position on his feet, upright, the chains and wooden stocks pull him to bend over a modified bench, his chest resting on the padded surface while his hooves remain firmly on the floor. His cock sways between his legs as you shove the mating bench into place, his balls squishing together painfully when you lock his ankles into position. You feel bad limiting his movement when he so clearly wants to fuck to his heart’s content, but your safety is also paramount. You’re not going to take a hoof to the face just because you have to stand behind him to insert a fucking machine.

Once he’s locked into place, you remove the wooden stocks holding his wrists next to his ears, letting him flop his muscular arms down weakly. McCree shakes his head dazedly, pressing his cheek to the headrest to watch you prepare; he’s so wracked with trembling desire that he can’t even move. He thought he would, at first, but an entire month of frustration and pent up desire would suck the energy out of even the most randy bull.

“Ready, baby?” You kiss his cheek, going down to your knees.

“Y-yes, boss,” he whimpers faintly, hooves shifting beneath him as he widens his stance. Ever so eager for your touch where he’s hurting the most. “Ohhh, oh! Oh fuck yes, boss, YES!”

With a single touch, you jolt him back into sanity. His huge cock bobs before your eyes to the beat of his heart, his balls clenching up so tightly to his body that they look like two huge apples hidden behind the bulk of his mammoth cock. Your hand doesn’t even manage to curl around his thickness, your thumb and forefinger so far apart that you’d need to use your other palm in order to close the circle, so you do, scorching both hands with his intense heat.

“Mmm, you’re so big, baby,” you purr up at him, pressing your face to his trembling thigh. Globs of precum drip from his hungry cock, the thick veins surrounding his flesh looking so juicy that you just can’t help yourself. You have to have him in your mouth.

“Shit!” McCree’s eyes bulge out comically, pupils fully dilated and jaw tight, his lips pulled back over his teeth as he snarls out into the musky air. “Oh shit! I’m going to-! I can’t stop it, Boss- I- Boss!”

With just one touch of your tongue to the underside of his head, McCree cums with an earsplitting bray. His hips slam against the padded side of the bench, his thighs bunching and relaxing as he cums buckets into the cum receiver that you pull over just in time. Fire and ice explode through his veins, clearing his brain of anything except breed breed breed. It sends him into a lust-fuelled frenzy, his eyes going feral and his brain returning to age-old instincts, forcing him to throw himself further into the bench as though it would get him closer to your mouth.

“More,” he snarls, swinging his horned head this way and that to try and find you underneath him. “Give me your pussy. MORE.”

Beneath him, you smile and press more kisses to his rock hard cock, a free hand cupping and squeezing his balls. “Demanding creature.” All the same, you fit as much as you can into your mouth while you prepare some lube. Oh yes, you’re going to fuck your bull today, but not before he gets fucked.

He roars as you slip several fingers into his ready ass while sucking on his cock and balls, the angry sound growing ever louder when you find his prostate with unerring ease and stuffing in a huge butt plug to keep that pressure on his sweetest spot. Once you replace your finger with the metal plug, you let go of his cock so you can fiddle with the wired controls. Just a twist here and there, and-

A rolling bray of your name echoes inside the pen as the plug starts to vibrate powerfully, pressing hard against his prostate and milking yet another orgasm out of your prized bull. His hips start slamming against the strong bench again, rutting and shaking the metal chains that hold it in place. That huge cock of his throbs and spews yet another round of cum into the receptor, filling the bottle below to five marks.

You eye the bottle with pride, knowing that all his suffering was coming to fruition. A bull couldn’t hope to produce that much in a week with regular milkings. Oh no, they can only cum that much when they have been denied over and over again. And you know first hand that that seed is so potent that the slightest amount could get a cow pregnant. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you purr up to him in between mouthing at his clenching balls, admiring their size and imagining how much cum he still has in them.

“I want to fuck,” he growls darkly. “Let me fuck your pussy, Boss, I’ll make you see stars.” No more Mr Nice McCree; there’s only deprived, pussy starved breeding bull McCree left. Breeding bull McCree that has only one thing in mind – stuffing his huge cock into your pussy until he pumps you full of his babies. “Give me your pussy, Boss, come on!”

“After this one, honey.” By ‘this one’, you mean another orgasm. An orgasm that rolls through his body like a massive tidal wave as you pinch and slap at the head of his ultra sensitive cock. The scream that escapes him sounds breathless, as though the power of it winded him as it takes over his body.

Even after three orgasms, his cock twitches back into hardness, though now it’s looking a lot less angry than it did before. And a lot smaller. Good, now you won’t have to tear yourself in half just to get him in as far as you can.

Positioning yourself, you slather a bucketful of lube on him and angle his cockhead at your dripping lips. Hearing him cum time and time again, plus the month of endless teasing and edging, has got you absolutely chomping at the bit to let him fuck you properly.

McCree stays still for the first inch that slips inside you, his body trembling and his breath caught in his throat as he feels your silken pussy swallow his cock like it was made for him. “O-oh, yes, yesyesyes, oh fuck yeah~” He whimpers with an open mouth, drool stringing to the floor as he takes that first tentative thrust that forces his huge cock into your grippy pussy slowly.

Your pussy feels like home, sliding over him and welcoming him back to where he belongs as he sinks hilt deep in you. The bull loses all his aggression as he feels his balls rest against your clit, his hooves shifting and shuffling as he presses as hard into you as he dares. Wanting to keep his cock inside you forever.

Alas, you have other plans. You snatch up a crop in your hand, swinging it back to land squarely on the curve of his hip. “Move, McCree. Fuck me hard, bull, do you hear me?” It’s like your command flipped a switch inside him – turning him back into that lust-crazed bull.

He snarls, sinking his fingers into the bench to anchor himself so he can start rutting into you like he would a cow in heat.

Slap. Slap. Slap. Slapslapslapslap-

For the longest time, all you hear is the deafening sounds of flesh impacting flesh, all you feel is the fine fur on his thighs rubbing against your legs, all you can taste is his cock that seems to be poking out through your throat from how far inside you he is. With one hand on your clit, you can feel his cockhead bump into your forearm through you. It’s far hotter than it has any right to be – you shouldn’t feel turned on by the bulge that’s caused by his mammoth cock, by how it stimulates your sweet spot with every slam of his hips against you.

His pace quickens, turns sloppy, when you clench down on him as hard as you can. It’s like clamping down on metal – he’s that hard. But that searing heat is one of a kind, burning you from the inside out as you cum on his cock with a surprised yelp. Curling into yourself, you claw at his thigh for some semblance of control as he continues to fuck you hard and fast, paying no attention to your pussy squeezing tight around him in pulses.

Your orgasm feels like it stretches out into eternity, but McCree’s own orgasm pulls you out of it as he bellows out his victory above you. On reflex alone, you pull yourself off him and catch his jets of cum with a spare receptacle, some coating your gaping pussy but most squirting into the pan. It takes you a couple of seconds to regain your sanity, his burning brand of a cock still pulsing against your pussy lips as he ruts back and forth yet again in search of pussy.

No matter his efforts, he can’t seem to angle his cock quite right to slide into you again, a fact that makes him incredibly frustrated, as evidenced by his desperate yells for you to put him back inside you. His pleas for you to get back onto his cock are swiftly ignored as you tumble to the side, getting up onto your knees so you can continue milking him.

Patting his flank, you press a kiss onto his hip and brace yourself there as you let the still vibrating plug and your loose grip around his cock do the work to milk him. His cock still sears you as you work him over, dancing your fingertips all over that magnificent piece of flesh and admiring it even as you pull another orgasm out of him to fill another two marks in the bottle.

Now, more than a handful of orgasms in, McCree finally feels himself flagging. His cock softens ever so slightly in your hand; more pliable than it felt the past hour, and certainly far more sensitive. He jerks as you focus on his head, the pleasurable grimace on his face turning into one of succinct pain as you rake your nails down his inner thigh. “A-ah, oh fuck, it hurts~”

“Does it hurt now, big boy?”

“Nnngh.” He takes a moment to gulp down the thick saliva pooling in the back of his throat. “Y-yeah, it’s-ah! It’s hurting real bad, Boss.” But even though he complains about the pain, he cums yet again, his yells turning into anguished cries when you keep going.

Cum coats your fingers and provides more lube as you use both hands to pull at his cock now, jerking him in tandem with the vibe pulsing tirelessly at his battered prostate. You can feel him trembling, not out of desire but out of exhaustion and pain now. Those pleas for you to fuck him have turned into pleas for you to stop, to leave him alone because his balls are completely empty.

“Weren’t you begging me to milk you not an hour ago, big boy?” You laugh and slap his ass multiple times, slipping and sliding your hand all over his cock in an attempt to wrench at least one more orgasm out of him. “Come on, let’s keep going.”

“I-I can’t, Boss, my cock can’t take no more! Please, stop! Stopstopstop please! It hurts-” Tears of pain trickle down his handsome face now, drool globbing down his lips unattractively as he throws himself this way and that to get away from your greedy hands. “It hurts, please stop!”

“Just one more, baby. Just one more and I’ll stop,” you sing up to him, taking his cock into your mouth as much as you can so you can suck and kiss what you can fit.

And although he feels like something in his balls is torn, McCree moos with a despondent sob as he cums for the last time. Even then, his cum is still pearly white, still thick as it squirts into the bottle. And like that, he filled the entire bottle with potent bull cum. Good thing he fulfilled his quota or you would have to milk him for even longer. And that would definitely hurt.

Once his final powerful orgasm washes over him, McCree slumps bonelessly against the bench, his body feeling like jelly and his mind leaking out of his ears like his tears do from his eyes. His fur, once shiny, is now matted with sweat. His mouth is still slack, his lips parted gently so a tiny pool of saliva grows under his cheek. That mammoth cock now hangs limp between his legs, his balls now drastically smaller so it doesn’t look comically large in comparison to his cock.

“Good job, big boy!” You get to your feet and cap the bottle of cum. “You did good work today. Now get some rest and I’ll come back after I finish my rounds. Sleep if you can; you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

“W-what’s tomorrow?” McCree mumbles almost incoherently, trying and failing to pick up his head so he can kiss you on the lips.

“You’ve got two cows lined up, so that means you’ll have to be teased again tonight so you’ll be ready tomorrow.”

With a mournful moo, he deflates and passes out. Not again.


End file.
